


5 Times Someone On the Team Refers to Coulson/Skye as Father/Daughter (and then immediately feels stupid)

by RowboatCop



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Equal Partners are hot, F/M, Not fatherly, Older Man/Younger Woman, skoulsonfest2k14
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 03:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2213241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/pseuds/RowboatCop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Skoulsonfest2k14 Day 3: Skye's Father.</p>
<p>It ended up being less about Skye's father and more about how Coulson isn't a surrogate for Skye's father, though each team member has a moment where they aren't sure how to better classify their relationship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	5 Times Someone On the Team Refers to Coulson/Skye as Father/Daughter (and then immediately feels stupid)

1.

“Is it wrong to be worried already?” Triplett is sitting in the driver’s seat of the SUV with Coulson at his side, waiting for Skye to finish a hack. Coulson had finished his part of the mission more quickly, and Trip is almost certain that he’s dying to run in after Skye.

“Skye can handle herself,” Coulson tells him, sounding as though he’s saying it to himself as much as to Trip.

“I know she can,” Trip agrees, “I just don’t like thinking that she’ll have to.”

“Yeah.”

Coulson crosses his arms and closes his eyes — it looks like he’s waiting for something to explode.

“Should I go in?”

“It’s only fifteen minutes over. That’s still an understandable window,” Trip reasons.

“But shouldn’t she have radioed? Answered a signal?”

“If it were someone you didn’t love like a daughter, would you be thinking this way?”

Coulson looks stricken for a moment, like he’s horribly offended by the statement.

“Like a daughter?”

Trip laughs because of course that would be the thing that draws Coulson’s frown. Except that he doesn’t exactly know how to fix it. It’s not like he really thinks Coulson thinks of Skye like a daughter — he wouldn’t flirt with her so much if he did — but he doesn’t have a better way of getting his point across.

“No, you’re right. Of course. If it were May, I wouldn’t be so worried.”

Trip nods.

“But you know I don’t think of Skye like a daughter.”

He raises his eyebrows at the fact that Coulson is _actually_ going to bring this up.

“Yeah,” Trip answers. “I do know.”

They sit in silence for another five minutes, and Coulson’s leg begins to bounce.

“I would be worried about May right now, wouldn’t I?”

“Do you ever worry about May in a situation like this one, sir?”

It’s not exactly a high risk scenario, and May might be the best fighter they’ve got who isn’t coopted by the Avengers.

“I’m going,” Coulson announces as he steps out of the car, such that the door slams before Trip has a chance to offer a rebuttal.

He waits alone in the car for about five minutes, until Coulson comes out carrying Skye in his arms. Trip is out and around to the passenger door in seconds, making room for Skye’s lifeless frame.

“It was just an ICER,” Coulson announces, much to Trip’s immediate relief.

Coulson climbs into the back with Skye, propping her up against him, and Trip returns to the driver’s seat.

“I’m going to get us the hell out of here,” he announces, though from the rearview mirror, he can see that Coulson is far too entranced with brushing his fingers across Skye’s forehead, down to rest against her pulse — as though reassuring himself that she’s alive.

It’s only about five minutes into the drive that Skye comes awake, springing forward with a yell that makes Trip swerve the car before he gathers his wits.

“Shh,” he hears Coulson quiet her, and watches as Skye takes in her surroundings and then clings to him.

“He came out of nowhere,” Skye whispers, and Coulson strokes her hair.

“You’re okay.”

“I thought —”

“You’re okay.”

Skye has been here before, Trip realizes — although before, it wasn’t an ICER. And he’d seen how completely destroyed Coulson was by Skye’s condition, so it’s no wonder that this seems to be bringing up some issues for both of them.

“I’m so sorry,” Coulson whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.”

Coulson nods, but leans forward and presses a kiss to the top of her head, then her temple, then her ear, and then suddenly they’re making out in the back seat, and Trip stares out the windshield with wide eyes.

There’s a loud groan from Coulson, and then Skye gasps.

“ _Coulson_.”

“Okay?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Uh, guys?”

Trip keeps his eyes forward, but he can hear the sudden sharp breaths from both of them as they break apart.

“I apologize, Agent Triplett. That was unprofessional.”

Trip glances in the mirror and sees Skye’s face fall — he feels suddenly guilty. Like driving the Coulson/Skye makeout mobile wouldn’t be so bad if it meant that Skye kept her smile on.

Coulson leans in and whispers something in Skye’s ear, though, something that Trip can hear includes the word _private_ , that makes Skye’s face light up.

Triplett shakes his head at the two of them as Skye curls into Coulson’s side and closes her eyes.

  
  


2.

May has been working with Skye for two weeks, and the truth is that she’s incredibly impressed. Most of it is Skye — the girl is _determined_ — but every so often she pulls out a feint or a block that’s all Ward. (She can give him that much, at least — he didn’t fake it when he was teaching Skye to kick ass.)

What catches her attention even more than Skye, though, is Coulson. He’s _lurking_. He stands above them, mostly out of sight, and watches a great majority of her time training Skye, and it pisses her off. It’s a testament to how patient she is (and she does _not_ get enough credit for her patience) that she gives him two weeks before she brings it up.

“Can you stop spying on me, please? I’m not going to hurt Skye.”

“Spying?” He seems surprised more than offended.

“You’ve been watching our training. And I know you’re overprotective of her, Phil, but she _isn’t actually_ your daughter. You need to back off.”

Coulson blinks at her, as though she’s making no sense at all, and May frowns.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel that I doubted your capabilities as an instructor, May. I assure you, I’m not...spying.”

She narrows her eyes at him, wants to poke at him more and ask what the _hell_ he’s doing looking down on all their sessions, but Skye interrupts them.

“Hey, everything okay?”

She’s toweling off, wiping away the sweat that’s pooled in the dips of her collarbone and down into her bra, and May becomes quickly aware of the fact that Coulson’s eyes are following the progress of the white cotton with far too much intensity.

She rolls her eyes and outright scowls at him, and when he manages to tear his eyes off of Skye, he has the good grace to look sheepish at his interest.

So he hasn’t been _spying_ on them, he’s been standing around _leching_ at Skye. Before she can even think of addressing it, though, Skye makes the situation either much worse or much better by raising her eyebrows at him as she dips the towel back down between her breasts. Coulson’s eyes follow the movement, and Skye smirks at her power over him. When she meets May’s eyes, though, she looks immediately chastened.

May tightens her jaw at their flirting, and takes a deep breath. It’s not like it’s a new state of affairs, exactly — they’ve always interacted by flirting. It’s just that it never occurred to her that the flirting _meant_ something. And this...this means something.

“I have that report you wanted to see,” Coulson says to Skye, but his voice and his eyes are not suggestive of work _at all_.

“That’s good,” Skye answers, suddenly sounding out of breath. “We should go look at that right now.”

Skye gives May a brief nod before following Coulson back towards his office, and it’s not different than it ever has been — Skye following Coulson into his office — except of course that it is.

She thinks. She would have noticed, she’s almost sure, if this weren’t pretty new.

Either way, May realizes that they’ve been treating Skye’s training sessions as some sort of _foreplay_ , which makes her want to heave. However much she loves Coulson (and it is a great deal, more than any romantic partner she’s ever had), she wants _no part_ in his sex life.

As she walks back to her bunk to shower and change, she considers stopping by the lab and seeing if Fitz has some sort of paint gun she can threaten Coulson with tomorrow. The threat of ruining a suit might be the only incentive that will keep him from leching.

  
  


3.

Simmons is outfitting Coulson with the newest earpiece she and Fitz have designed — it’s four times smaller than the previous model, entirely biomatched, and basically undetectable.

Coulson’s ability to care about the greatness of his new earpiece is clearly wearing thin, though, so she turns conversation towards the undercover mission he and Skye are about to leave on.

“I suppose going to an upper class dinner party is a more fun mission than staking out a van,” she teases him.

Coulson straightens the bowtie on his tux and flashes her a sheepish smile.

“It has its benefits,” he agrees.

“Still, though, I’d prefer not to have to mingle with HYDRA operatives.”

Simmons isn’t a violent person, but her anger at HYDRA is so visceral that it scares her sometimes.

He smiles again, and Simmons thinks that Coulson would also prefer not to have to mingle with HYDRA, even if he’ll get a world class $3000/plate meal out of the deal.

She goes back to chattering about the mission, the nature of the party, what they’re hoping to learn.

“I suppose you _do_ need to take Skye so she can get through the firewall, but you really don’t look old enough to have a daughter Skye’s age, sir.”

Coulson frowns at that, and Simmons stutters to a stop.

“That is to say, I know Skye _could_ be your daughter, but you’re very attractive for a man of your age, sir. Very good muscle definition, even for a man in his twenties, and —”

She stops herself, can feel her cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“Thanks.” Coulson looks bemused, not too put off, which is good. “But Skye isn’t going as my daughter. She’s going as my wife.”

“Oh.”

Simmons frowns at that. She has watched them interact countless times, has seen the way Coulson dotes on Skye, and for all of her words about Coulson’s youthful appearance (not a lie so much as an exaggeration of the truth) she can’t see anything but Skye’s place as his surrogate daughter.

“Can you both pull that off?”

“Why —”

He’s cut off by Skye’s entrance into the lab. The dress she’s chosen for this party is elegant — a sleek black halter style on top with a long skirt — but there’s a distinctly racy slit up her thigh. Simmons’s eyes are drawn downwards, to the peek of toned leg that that becomes visible with every step. It’s almost hypnotic, and Skye does have very nice legs.

“You look stunning, Skye,” Simmons greets her.

“Thanks,” Skye grins at her and then does a turn, showing off the low cut back that frames her lateral lumbar indentations, drawing attention to the curve of her lower back and giving the illusion that the dress might slip down further.

Both the dress and Skye herself are extremely attractive, but that doesn’t prepare Simmons for the sight of Director Coulson staring at her with his mouth slightly gaped.

“You like it, AC?” Skye smiles at him, and it is distinctly _not_ the smile of a daughter or even a protege seeking a compliment. It’s the smile of a woman who _knows_ he’s enjoying it. A woman who _loves_ that he’s enjoying it.

Coulson nods, telegraphing something with his eyes that Simmons can’t quite see. But it makes Skye blush.

Skye saunters over to the table to take a seat next to Coulson, waiting her turn for an earpiece, and Simmons is almost surprised when their conversation turns to the mission at hand.

They’re laying out plans, going back over blueprints, and Simmons turns away to finish the finicky work of the earpieces as she listens. It sounds exactly the same as Coulson and Skye have always sounded, she realizes, and it’s not paternal doting when Coulson praises her. Rather, he takes every chance he can to acknowledge the ways that Skye contributes, the ways that Skye has worked beside him as an equal in planning this mission.

They have learned to work as partners, she realizes, without the hierarchical baggage implied by a parental relationship, or, honestly, even a Director/Agent relationship. She’s satisfied with that conclusion until she turns around at exactly the wrong moment to catch Coulson sliding his hand down Skye’s naked back. Skye arches against his hand, lets out a little _hum_ of contentment.

Simmons’s eyes widen, embarrassed at having seen the intimate gesture and the obvious romantic intent behind it, so it’s surprising when Coulson just smiles at her as though she hasn’t seen something earthshaking.

Which, perhaps she hasn’t.

Simmons nods and continues about her business, though she’s very thankful that Skye and Coulson are able to keep their hands to themselves for the rest of the time they are in the lab.

  
  


4.

"At least she has you, sir," Fitz offers as they watch Skye dart back to her bunk, refusing any offer of comfort.

"Yeah," Coulson replies before he seems to shake himself off. "Wait, what?"

"Well, her father is a homicidal maniac, but at least she has you."

"Why would you think that?"

"Is she leaving?" Fitz is horrified by that idea — he’s come to really respect Skye and hates the idea of her leaving the team — but Coulson shakes his head.

"No. But you make it sound like I'm her father. And I'm not."

"I meant *like* a father," Fitz clarifies.

"I'm not like that," Coulson insists, a little too adamant. Fitz doesn’t understand the reticence. Skye and Coulson have always been close, so the idea that Coulson would want to emphasize distance between them seems...off.

"Don't you think that's what she needs? After growing up without a father..."

Fitz trails off, and Coulson smiles at him, suddenly much warmer. He realizes that he’s talking as much about himself as about Skye — and, he realizes, Coulson, too. They’ve all missed out on father figures.

"I think that Skye is smart enough not to live her life looking for a father figure, Fitz," Coulson tells him. "In that regard, she's much smarter and stronger than I am."

"Me, too." Fitz blushes, and Coulson smiles comfortingly.

“One of the things I’ve learned from Skye is that being a good person is about the choices you make every day, not the events that defined you.”

Fitz nods because if anyone has learned that lesson the hard way — that you have to judge people by their choices and not their pasts — it’s him. It’s still hard, though — he feels like a child too often, not sure how to feel more like a grown up. Like a man.

He doesn’t really know how to have this conversation, but before it can get awkward, Skye re-enters the room. Her eyes are dry, but she looks destroyed.

“Sorry I ran off like that,” she says. There’s a brittle smile on her face, and Fitz’s heart breaks for her. He doesn’t know everything about her past — both she and Coulson have assured him that it’s for the safety of the team that some of the information stays secret, and he believes them — but it seems like it just keeps getting worse.

He hopes that Coulson isn’t going to push her away, isn’t going to take away whatever closeness he and Skye have had in the past with his need to not be thought of as her father.

“You can take all the time you need.”

It’s not protective, exactly, but it’s comforting. And as Fitz looks over Coulson’s posture, he can see how much the older man wants to be able to offer _something_.

Skye walks towards him, then, and Coulson reaches out to take her hand. Their fingers intertwine at their sides, and Skye looks up at him — she looks so sad, but also so hopeful.

“We’ll figure it out together,” Coulson promises her, and Skye nods.

“What if I’m…”

“Then we’ll figure it out together.” His voice is firm, offering no room for disagreement.

Fitz feels oddly like an outsider at the realization that when Coulson says “we,” he isn’t talking about the team. He’s talking about himself and Skye — the two of them together. Working together. Skye offers him a smile and a brief nod, clearly understanding the message.

And that’s Coulson and Skye, he knows. That’s always been Coulson and Skye. She doesn’t spend time with him because he’s like her father, she spends time with him because he’s her _partner_.

A silent conversation happens between them as they stand there, in small twitches of eyebrows and curves of lips and soft eyes. And as Fitz’s eyes flit from linked hands to faces and back, his jaw drops slightly at the realization that they’re more than that — more than partners.

Coulson offers him a tiny, sheepish smile, and Fitz nods once.

 

5.

“Sir,” Billy tells him, “while I think it’s very sweet that Skye wants to tend to you, you might tell her that she shouldn’t be in and out of your bedroom while wearing her pajamas. It goes against protocol.”

“No it doesn’t,” Coulson replies, eyebrow raised challengingly.

“Maybe not officially,” Billy admits. “But honestly, sir, you and I may know that Skye is seeing after you like a daughter seeing to her father, but it _could_ look...inappropriate.”

Coulson smirks at him, and Billy frowns.

Having the Director bedridden after a shot to the shoulder has been frustrating on several counts. For one, the man is terrible at following doctor’s orders. Skye is the only one that can seem to keep him in bed, which means Billy probably shouldn’t be objecting to her presence.

Except that just a few minutes ago, he caught her leaving Coulson’s room in a rather skimpy nightgown with a robe only half closed over it.

“Looking inappropriate doesn’t break protocol, Agent Koenig,” Coulson informs him. As though Billy Koenig needs to be informed of protocol.

“I’m aware of that, sir. But isn’t it better to avoid even the possible implication that you’re breaking protocol?”

“I’m thinking maybe the anti-fraternization protocol should go.”

“What possible reason could —”

His diatribe about the safety of operatives is cut off when Skye wanders back into Coulson’s bedroom. She’s dressed as she was when she exited, except that she’s taken time to do the robe up properly. As she steps carefully into the bedroom, her eyes are pointed down at the two cups of coffee she’s carrying. When she finally looks up, she seems surprised at Billy’s presence.

“Agent Koenig,” she greets him as she sets down one mug on Coulson’s nightstand and then carries the other around to the other side of the bed. Where she sits down. Under the covers. “What’s up?”

Billy is at a loss for words as he watches Coulson and Skye sip coffee in bed together.

“Agent Koenig was just telling me that we might want to be careful not to give any indication of impropriety.”

Skye nods, seriously and sagely, before her face cracks into a quiet smirk.

“Sounds good.”

Billy is about to start spouting protocol at them — about to suggest that they need to _respect_ that protocol — when he notices the phone plugged in on the nightstand next to Skye. Her laptop stashed on the floor. Her jeans crumpled by the desk and her bra tossed over the desk chair.

“I’m thinking the anti-fraternization policy needs to go,” Coulson states again.

“So true,” Skye cuts in. “I get the intent, but don’t you realize that you just make it harder for someone who is being sexually harassed to report it, when they risk being reprimanded for a relationship in the first place?”

Billy nods, not even sure what to say at this point.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Coulson promises — although the promise sounds almost like a threat — and Billy turns on his heel and walks out of the room.

  
  



End file.
